


What You Don't See

by BlackSilkenRose



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Eventual Romance, M/M, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSilkenRose/pseuds/BlackSilkenRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon and Killua are so aware of each other that sometimes they forget just how in tune they are. After spending so many years together, it is only natural that this awareness leads to questions, and that questions lead to a need to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After years of writing for Yu Yu Hakusho, I'm entering the realm of HunterXHunter. I've been wanting to do one of these for a long time, so any kind comments you have would be greatly appreciated.

Gon only ever looked at Killua when he wasn’t aware of it.

Of course, he had to look at him sometimes, when they debated on their next course of action, when they glared at each other for something innately juvenile, when one of their moves was dependent on the others. But these were just looks; never during these moments did Gon ever let himself see Killua. 

There were two reasons for this, one of which being he had learned very early on that Killua hid what he felt when he thought he was being studied. The second reason was less simple. It hadn’t really occurred to him why he avoided looking at his friend too openly when he was younger; it simply wasn’t something he found himself comfortable with. It took years of near constant companionship, then devastating separation, and then reconciliation before he was able to pinpoint what exactly led him to keep his eyes away.

He only put the pieces together when he realized how much he loved watching Killua sleep.

There was a safety in looking at his sleeping features, knowing that the other wouldn’t return his look with a questioning one, knowing that any expression which crossed it would be genuine. When Killua slept, he looked again like the child he was when they first met.

In the moment that Gon became aware of this, he found himself suddenly afraid.

After that, it became harder to look at him in those smaller ways. When Killua would serve him a playful punch, he found himself shying away grumpily rather than returning the gesture, or if he did, returning it without the other’s subdued restraint. When Killua would tug on his hand to show him the way, he would yank back, stepping in front of him to keep his eyes from view. When Killua would grace him with an honest smile, Gon would feel his chest tighten unbearably.  
Sometimes he wondered if Killua ever felt similarly.

Even so, there was no place he would have rather been than at Killua’s side, or rather, than have Killua at his. There was such comfort in having him there, something that he realized after having been apart for so long he had taken advantage of. Especially while the other slept.

It had become a habit, like many things had in their long history together, to share their space as much as any situation would allow. When they sat together to eat, they would do it side by side or find their legs tangling together under the table in a half-hearted war. When they bathed, it was not uncommon for one of them to follow the other into the bathroom, brushing teeth while the other showered, talking as much as a mouth full of toothpaste would allow. When they slept, and when either it was called for or convenient, they sprawled out on the same bed, oftentimes waking up in a mess of limbs and untidy hair.

Gon had always been quick to sleep, but more and more often he found himself awake in the middle of the night, staring up at the ceiling before daring to turn to the side and take in the features of his closest friend. He always did, though, as if drawn in by a magnet of infinite force. Killua had always had a magnetism to him, had always been someone he was drawn to. He had known that the moment they met; though he had never told the other that. Then again, he didn’t think he had to.

While asleep, Killua held everything that Gon wished to see in him. When he slept soundly, his face was peaceful. When he had a nightmare, his whole body shivered in fear, face contorting into an agonized shape that Gon had never seen on him when he was awake. It was very rare that he would sleep talk, but when he did it was usually out of exhaustion, and it was usually about Gon. He never made much sense, but it made the black haired teen smile nonetheless. More often than not, Killua slept slightly curled onto his side, his hands palm down against each other cushioning his head. Gon wondered why he found such comfort in the feeling of fingers against his cheek.

When a thought like that would pass through his mind, he’d find himself fighting against the urge to reach out and touch him. He knew, mostly from experience, that any touch with intention would wake him. Killua had grown used to his tossing and turning (he too had been a restless sleeper as a child), but whenever someone touched him with meaning he’d be wide awake within seconds. Gon wondered how much of that his parents had instilled in him and how much of it was his own mechanism for defense. Even so, that fact alone was the only thing keeping him from reaching out and replacing the pale boy’s fingers with his own.  
When day would break, hours after the young Hunter wrestled with his brain back into sleep, he’d find himself wondering what had caused such a desire within him, especially since he couldn’t even look at the other. All the while, Killua went blissfully oblivious, waking with an exaggerated yawn, putting too much time into deciding on his outfit for the day, chatting excitedly about what sorts of goodies they’d hunt down for breakfast.

Gon looked away as the boy stretched, his arms over his head, taunt. He gazed for a moment before focusing on his clothes when Killua turned his back, slipping out of his nightshirt and exposing contoured shoulder blades. He stared ahead and focused on the thought of pastries and cereal while not imagining the way his friend’s face would light up at the sight of such treats.

Gon never looked at Killua when he was aware of it. He made damn sure not to.

If only he could put the rest together and figure out why, he wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of Killua noticing.

After all, losing Killua was the last thing on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Like all things with Gon, Killua knew he was being avoided.

He wasn’t being ignored per say; Gon still spoke to him, engaged in his childish games, and spent nearly every second of every day planted near or next to him. Ignored wasn’t quite the word. Rather, he knew that something was distinctly wrong with their recent interactions, and he knew that the problem laid in Gon.

There were two things he could do, the first being ignore it. He had tried that, admittedly, but after a week or so it became clear that ignoring it wasn’t doing anything to help, only to frustrate him. The second was more complex and took more of an effort to sustain. Though he wasn’t sure what brought on the change, what Killua did know was that if there was anything he wanted out of life, it was to make Gon happy. With this clear in his mind, he pushed to do just that, trying to keep the other teen in the highest of spirits at all times, no matter what the cost.

The problem was, Gon didn’t seem to want to be cheered up.

No matter what Killua did, no matter how hard he pushed, the light haired teen found himself being pushed away, sometimes subtly and sometimes outright. It didn’t always happen, but it happened enough to make him wonder what he could be doing wrong.

In the moment that Killua realized he did not understand, he found himself suddenly afraid.

After that, it became all Killua could think about, all he could focus on during the daytime. When Gon would push him a little too roughly, he would laugh it off, noting boisterously how strong the other had gotten. When Gon would push past him, he’d trail behind closely, commenting on how the other’s sense of direction was so much keener. When Gon would refuse to return a smile, Killua would give him a moment alone, feeling his heart clench at the look on his face that reminded him of a place he never wanted them to return to.

Sometimes he wondered if Gon ever felt similarly.

Despite this, there was nothing more Killua wished for than to stay with Gon forever. He had effectively made Gon his world, and it was his hope that someday the raven haired teen would return his devotion. Especially when he thought of how he was watched at night.

Killua had learned to feign sleep around the same time he had learned to walk, but that in no way impaired his senses. Any gaze that held intensity would wake the teen; it was an incredibly useful trick to have up his sleeve when dealing with potential enemies. He supposed it had something to do with the sensitivity of his aura, though he had not been aware of it as a child, but it had been effective nonetheless. So at night, when Gon would start to toss and turn only to go uncharacteristically still, Killua would find himself on the precipice of awareness. All it took was the turn of the other’s head, and he was awake, keeping his eyes closed and breathing still.

It disturbed him that Gon could essentially go days without making eye contact but would gaze openly at him in his sleep. It took every ounce of commitment not to open his eyes, to catch the other in the act and question him. He had imagined it a hundred times, played out all forms of the situation he could think of to all possible ends, but he found himself holding back. If the only way Gon could look at him was in his sleep, then so be it. At least he was looking at him at all.  
Killua wondered what could have happened for the sudden change in his friend’s behavior; it had to be serious for it to disturb his sleep nearly every night. Though they had gotten older, Gon had not lost his childish charm: at least around everyone else. Things still seemed normal around Leorio, on the occasion that they saw each other, but then again it had been some months and Killua wasn’t sure the issue had presented itself then. He also wondered if the doctor would have even noticed. Most likely not.

Part of him feared without question that Gon was growing tired of his company, but the sliver of hope that these nightly interruptions were giving him tried desperately to persuade him otherwise. They still went on adventures, Gon chasing after Ging in between jobs as they travelled from place to place, making new friends along the way and running into some old ones. He had never expressed any outright dissatisfaction, but Killua wondered if with age Gon had become more skilled at keeping secrets. The idea stung, but he didn’t discount that it was likely. They had both changed so much, between the time spent apart and the rest of their growing up together, that it was only to be expected. Sometimes he missed Gon’s childish innocence.

He thought about the times Gon did look at him, outside of thinking he was unconscious. He would catch him every so often peeking out of the corner of his eye at him, but that had only been because he was looking too. Other times, he would feel eyes on his back, on his neck, mostly when he was turned away. It was a strange feeling, to be watched by your best friend, but he couldn’t really say that he disliked it. More so, he was confused by it, but still it lent itself to the desire to be seen, the desire for Gon not to lose interest in him. As selfish as it was, perhaps that was his greatest wish.

Killua was determined to hold that gaze soon. He was damn sure of it.

If only he could figure out what it was that kept Gon from sharing in their happiness the way they used to, he would be able to fix it.

After all, losing Gon was the stuff of his nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know if I'll keep the symmetry between chapters (probably not all of them), but it happened naturally here. Nice comments make me smile!


	3. Chapter 3

_Gon._

Killua was staring at him, had been for a number of minutes. The raven haired teen was pointedly ignoring it, focusing on sharpening another stick to skewer food on over the fire they had yet to build. Silence had fallen between them a couple of hours ago, starting out companionable but growing stale and tense all too soon. He didn’t understand why. But then Killua had turned to face him, his gaze holding a determination that Gon was not familiar with but knew would cause him trouble.

He was pushing him.

To his credit, the young Hunter hadn’t so much as peeked over at the light haired teen since he had noticed. His aura did enough to give him away without having to look. There   
was a nervous edge to it, a bristling that caused Gon’s to shudder, the feeling reminiscent to the caress of static electricity.

He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that all Killua wanted was for him to return the gaze. For some reason, that scared him more than anything.

Killua wasn’t about to back down anytime soon.

Gon couldn’t help but to fidget under the intense stare. The scrutiny was close to unbearable, as if those pale blue eyes were hunting for his secrets in every one of his movements. He shuddered when he felt Killua blink slowly at him, sensing the fluttering of his eyelashes, the wisps of hair that slightly obscured his view. Without even turning to him, he knew exactly how Killua was looking at him.

He wondered if Killua had ever noticed him looking towards the other like that. He knew he had.

He was offered a sort of quick reprieve as he put the sticks down, getting up to collect the tinder they had managed to find earlier in the day. Killua looked away as he retreated, ensuring that the rocks surrounding the fire pit were close enough to keep the heat contained, but when Gon returned, intent on keeping his focus on the task, Killua was back at it. His hands shook slightly as he worked to light the fire, noticing out of the corner of his eye how his friend’s foot inched closer to his. He almost glanced up at that, startled by the thought of Killua initiating anything other than a playful touch, but it never came.

Suddenly, Gon felt an immediate need to get out of his own head. Both knowingly and naturally, he looked up.

He was not met with haunting blue, as Killua had turned away.

There was an overwhelming emptiness that filled the spot which held his anxiety, his mouth going dry and eyes dulling. It was a sick twist of fate that with the absence of Killua’s gaze Gon felt himself seeking it, wanting to find what was hidden behind the ice in his eyes.

It wasn’t fair and worse yet he knew it, hated it, but that didn’t mean he could change it. Just as much as he couldn’t change the clenching in his heart when he realized that this avoidance was intentional. He stared dumbly at his friend, taking in the other’s tense body language, knowing that he was its cause.

_Killua._

With Killua looking at him, Gon felt anxious, but when Killua refused to meet his eyes Gon’s whole world felt wrong.

It was with great restraint that he kept himself from reaching out and grabbing the other’s hand, only the fear that it would evoke the reaction he wanted keeping him from acting. Instead, he clenched his fist, a frustrated feeling bubbling to the surface. He couldn’t stand to look, couldn’t stand to be looked at, but found himself trapped in the desire for both.

If this was adulthood, then growing up was an act of cruelty.

There was a shifting next to him, and he watched with twisting agony as Killua seemed to shrink at his gaze, curling in on himself in small ways that Gon knew were parts of his defense. His face was blank, but the slight crinkling around his eyes, what little of them he could see, showed clear discomfort. Gon wanted to yell, wanted to apologize and simultaneously blame him, wanted to hug him or hit him or something just to confront the fact that nothing was right.

Nothing was as it used to be.

He knew he was the cause, and that only made it harder to deal with. If Killua had a problem, he would have pestered him, joked around about it until the younger teen had eventually caved and then told him everything was alright. He would have put an arm around him, pulled him against his strong shoulder and told him that it didn’t matter, that   
Killua was Killua, the Killua he had wanted in his life from the very beginning, and nothing would change that.

But when Gon had a problem, the world turned on its axis and collapsed. It had happened before. He was afraid of it happening again.

A small part of him wondered why Killua never said anything, why he was so willing to go with Gon’s flow and accept whatever he had to give him, be it good or bad. The rest of   
him was grateful; grateful that Killua was willing to give him a chance to work through it even if he was hurting because of it.

Gon hated that he was hurting him, but more so he hated that he knew he was hurting him.

“Here,” the first word to break the silence, but they still avoided each other’s eyes. Killua was leaning over the small fire, skewering small fish on the sticks that Gon had shaped   
and placing them near the flames. Gon just watched as he worked, poking at the cindering kindling that was closest to him.

The night passed as such, eating in the no longer friendly silence, both of their minds focused inward, on themselves, on each other, on why, suddenly, they were no longer them.  
Gon almost missed the sad, tired sigh that slipped past Killua’s lips as they parted to prepare the ground for sleep. It was quiet, but his keen hearing picked it up, listening to everything the small gesture said and held. That night was the first in many that he did not look at the other in sleep, staring up at the stars, disturbingly awake.

If he kept this up, Killua would surely leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is happiness around a nearby corner.


	4. Chapter 4

“Damn it!” 

He hadn’t really meant to curse, but the words slipped from his mouth as he stuck a bloody landing. It had been intentional, of course, but that didn’t stop the reaction that a scraped elbow would cause, a tingling pain shooting up his arm as a nerve was hit.

Killua was at the end of his rope: the silences, the sideways glances, the carefulness that was not familiar to them driving him to the edge. The weeks of watching Gon struggle with something internal, something entirely innocuous had made the coming end clear: Gon was slipping away.

He had to snap Gon out of it.

This time, when Gon pushed too hard after Killua had bumped shoulders with him childishly, Killua fell. He moved with the momentum, not cushioning his fall as he went, touching down awkwardly like an off-balance child might. It was nowhere near the worst pain he had ever felt, despite blood pooling from various scrapes, but the meaning behind his fall was enough to make his eyes sting. They were so close to falling apart.

A sad part of Killua expected his friend to watch, unmoved by the scene, oblivious as to what it meant to them. He feared standing up without aid, cradling his wounded arm against his chest and walking off alone. This was his test, to see if Gon had given up hope in them. To see if he cared. Killua couldn’t remember a time before when he was so afraid of his closest friend.

Gon had only stared as Killua went down, his eyes not seeming to comprehend what was happening. They grew wide when Killua yelped out in pain, suddenly registering that the situation was not right, before the rest of him jumped into action.

“Killua!”

The reaction was delayed, but it didn’t stop a look of surprise from spreading across Killua’s features. Gon bounded toward him, dropping to his knees and grabbing the other teen’s hands in his, looking concernedly at the younger one. It was Killua’s turn to be dumbfounded as calloused fingers squeezed around his own, the pressure feeling both odd and distantly familiar at the same time.

He wondered futilely when the last time the two of them had touched.

Then, suddenly, there was fear as Gon looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time in what seemed like ages. The shock of pale blue grew wider when met with chocolaty brown, his heartbeat catching up with his brain as an expectant nervousness set in. He was looking at Gon, and Gon was looking at him.

Killua _had_ never been very good at being vulnerable, but he tried his best.

For a brief moment, Gon seemed nothing but concerned, but that concern soon melded into confusion, the confusion becoming fearfulness. His eyes widened in horror as he realized that he held his friend’s hands in his own, unable to look away from irises he had not seen in weeks. Knowing what was coming next, Killua opened his mouth to speak, but found that he did not have the right words.

It turned out not to matter; Gon had let go of his hands as if he had been burned, standing up faster than Killua had ever seen before, and turning his face to the side. Though he hid his eyes from sight, Killua noted with a twinge that his face was lined with conflict.

“Sorry.” 

The word came out muffled, as if spoken by someone who had never heard it before. Killua couldn’t help but to hear more in it than was said. Gon had never been one for hidden meaning, but then again he and never run from something a quickly as he seemed to be running from Killua, and that was reason enough to make him wonder.

Like a child who knew they had done something wrong, Gon bowed his head before turning away, escape clear in his sights. Panic set in to Killua, the reality of what was happening feeling much too immediate for him to bear. They had been so close, so close to something, and something was better than nothing when it came to things between them.

Even if they were scared. Even if it meant the possibility of a future alone.

It had been Killua’s test, so it was up to him to finish it. He stood in hazy alarm, the dull pain in his arm grounding him as he chased after the black haired teen. Gon jumped visibly when Killua grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. He turned back to him, shock and wariness painting over the color of his eyes in the same way that they painted over Killua’s.

The panic subsided almost immediately into a morbid shyness, a fright at the fact that he was taking action, that he was challenging the system Gon had for whatever reason trapped him in. He stuttered slightly as he spoke, his body cold and clammy, wishing there were more he could say to try to communicate that what was happening was not alright.

“It hurts.”

Gon could feel the hand clasped around his shaking. It registered immediately: the initiation of something other than a playful touch. The pale boy’s eyes were clenched shut, as if waiting for a blow. Like his hand, his body seemed to tremble, down to every hair on his head.

Killua didn’t complain, let alone complain about pain. Pain was something he was so used to, so in tune with that it had become a part of his being. Pain was not something to be shouldered like a burden for him; rather, it was carried with a certain amount of attachment. Without his pain, Killua would not have been Killua.

Gon knew the moment it was said that Killua was not talking about the cuts on his elbow or the impact of his fall. He knew that the kind of pain he spoke of was only the kind of pain he could give the other. Looking at Killua, trying so desperately to verbalize how he hurt, Gon found the fear he felt toward him becoming a fear of furthering his suffering.

A suffering that he had caused.

Nothing he had tried up until that point had worked to curb the feeling inside him that he was trying to kill without identifying. All it had done was cause more harm; the sight in front of him was proof of that. Knowing that there was nothing else to do, Gon caved to the instincts, relieving himself from the responsibility of holding them back any longer.

“I know.”

With the hand that was not being held, the young Hunter brushed loose strands of white hair from out of Killua’s eyes, reveling in their softness. He dropped his hand to the other’s shoulder when his eyes snapped open, alarmed by the sudden touch. Gon was staring at him, more openly than he had done in the weeks past, a small tired smile on his lips. Rubbing a thumb along the hand that held his, Gon stepped forward, relaxing at the feeling of his friend’s heat under his fingers.

They stood for what could have been hours, no more than a breath from holding each other, taking comfort in the fact that neither of them had turned to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking there's one more chapter left, so this is that corner I've been talking about. Keep the nice comments coming, and if you'd like to see another HxH fic sometime, let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

Darkness had fallen hours ago, but neither of them was ready to go to sleep.

The fire had died down quite a bit since they had started it, cindering low and dark, but the light of the stars was enough to keep their faces alight. The cover by trees was sparse where they were camped, letting moonlight filter directly onto their skin. The chorus of bugs had wound down, once a full choir to a few choice soloists, but they were deaf to the noise either way. All that mattered was them.

Killua had been careful not to extricate himself from Gon since the incident that afternoon, sticking as physically close to him without them tripping over each other. By the time they had parted to add wood to the empty fire pit his hand had grown numb, fingers stiff from clenching so tightly. Gon hadn’t put up a fight, which surprised him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Now that their dinner had been eaten and their sleeping bags were laid out (a matching set, courtesy of their favorite doctor when they had celebrated their belated birthdays), they found their fingers entwined again. The young men sat knee to knee, legs crossed, with each of their hands tangled in the others. They looked at each other, but did not try to read too deeply, taking in the contour of shoulders, the way clothes hung off their frames, the goosebumps that arose with the slight chill of air. Anything but what they sought.

It was Killua who pushed for something next, letting their knees bump into each other in a subtle brush, peeking up through white fringe as the movement captured Gon’s attention. When the older teen began to pull back, not ready for unformed words to come through, Killua tugged on his hands lightly.

Killua was his anchor, his conscience. Killua had always been there to ground him. It was his job to say crazy things, and it was Killua’s job to stop him.

To keep him sane forever.

Looking at the other teen, whose gaze was expectant and frightened, he felt anything but rational. Something bubbled to the pit of his stomach, warm and flighty, as the electric boy squeezed his hands in a reassuring gesture. Gon found it bewildering that he could be both comforted and anxious because of a single touch.

“I don’t feel well, Killua.” There was a moment in which the white haired boy blinked, confusion clear in his face. Before giving him a chance to answer, Gon continued. “Something isn’t right, inside.”

If not for the hands holding his, he would have clutched at his heart.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Killua said quietly, his voice calm and even despite his stature, tension wound through every muscle, his eyes thrown off to the side. The voice in his head whispered ill thoughts to him, the common berating that he had grown accustomed to as a child, but had not heard as often in Gon’s presence. _It’s my fault something’s wrong. I’m the one doing this._

For a moment, Gon did not answer.

“What’s wrong… is it why you’ve been watching me sleep?”

The hands in his were pulled away abruptly and Killua looked up, shocked at what he saw. Gon had wrapped his arms around himself, shaking slightly as his eyes darted around in wild panic, his thoughts running in desperate circles in his mind. _He knows, of course he knows, Killua’s found out, what do I do-_

“Gon!” Killua nearly yelled, alarmed by the other’s reaction to his words. He leaned forward out of instinct, his empty hands grabbing at the cuffed fabric of Gon’s shorts. The dark haired boy’s eyes flickered to him and back again rapidly, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to speak or just to run. Killua’s heart hurt; he wanted nothing more than to put his arms around the older teen, tell him that it was alright, but something told him that touch would not help. There was an edge of desperation in his voice when he spoke again. “Gon, just tell me what’s wrong!”

“It’s my fault, Killua,” Gon sounded angry now, his head bowed, but the emotion was directed at himself. The words spilled forth, straining Killua’s attentive ears. “I’ve always been like this, I think, but now it’s so much worse. I want to go back; I just want to go back.”

The young Hunter looked as if he were on the verge of heated tears, a sight that whispered reminders of a boy looking for justice where none could be given. It had been years since he had seen Gon so upset, the bandages wrapped around Killua’s heart covering up only half-healed wounds from the first time he had crushed it.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Something about Gon’s tone pushed Killua over the edge, his patience overcome by his anxiety. With his speed, there was no way for Gon to avoid it when he was tackled, his back hitting the padding on the sleeping bag and the breath knocked out of him. He acted on instinct, the warmth on top of him and sweet smell so distinctly Killua that no thought passed through his mind as he wrapped his arms around the body pressing him into the ground. Killua had buried his face in his shoulder, his whole body trembling like a frightened kitten while arms enveloped Gon like a boa constrictor. Strong and soft; Killua was a mystery he wanted to spend his life solving.

“Whatever it is, I don’t care,” Killua’s breath ghosted over his collar as he spoke, the shaky sound as endearing as it was maddening. Gon couldn’t tell if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away as hard as possible. “I’ll fix it; just tell me what to do and I’ll fix it.”

Gon smiled sadly. Killua was trying to help- after all, the white haired boy seemed just as scared as he was. Killua didn’t want him to leave. Killua would hold him down if he had to, trap him until he figured it out and confessed everything that was plaguing him. 

But if Killua did that, surely Gon would snap. If Gon lost control, let everything out into the open to be realized, Killua would be collateral. If Gon made Killua a victim, _again_ , he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Even so, he knew Killua’s worst fear was about to become a reality.

The only solution was to leave.

“I can’t be fixed, Killua,” he said, his body going completely lax with his decision. He let his head turn to nuzzle into the mess of white next to him, inhaling deeply. He wanted to remember the way this felt, the scent of the person closest to him. How incredibly _soft_ he was. “I’d only hurt you if you tried.”

A hand gripped one of his shoulders, the younger boy’s forehead pressing into the other one roughly, his frustration evident. He spoke with grit teeth, his struggle as physical as it was emotional.

“Then hurt me; I can take it.” He pleaded. _I’m used to it._ “Do whatever you want, just don’t hate me.” Gon lifted his arms to pry the other boy off of him, but found his hands carding through his hair instead. He wanted so badly to stop, but his brain was telling him that this was the last time, to take advantage of it while he still could without causing the other pain. Such a shallow lie.

“I could never hate Killua,” he replied, his hands roaming to the other’s cheeks to lift his face. If he was going to leave, he’d do it looking into those eyes. He’d remember the moment when Killua’s trust in him would shatter and carry it with him. He’d promise to come back if he saw a hint that Killua would want that.

For Killua, though, the fingers caressing his cheekbones meant something very different.

Before Gon, he had never known the tenderness of touch. He had never experienced a casual brush, never initiated playful contact. It had even taken him months to warm up to the hand that Kurapika would place on his shoulder or the way Leorio would try to manhandle him when he played a trick on him. With Gon, though, that touch had been accepted fairly naturally, the uneasiness he may have felt melting away the moment their hands clasped together. Under his tutelage, Killua had accepted every gesture and even given his own. It had been easy because Gon was honest; Killua could sense every intention that came with the other’s physicality.

Even under the circumstances, this was no different.

Killua wasn’t sure if it was electricity or just plain fire, but he knew that the hands on him left trails that sent him into overload, each emotion he was experiencing increasing tenfold. In the few stunted seconds in which he was moved, Killua lost his ability to breath, a sudden and entirely unconscious understanding of the boy beneath him grabbing his instincts by the reigns and overriding his ability to think.

Instead of letting himself be pulled back, his face tilted up to allow the brush of lips.

It was less than a kiss but more than just contact. Their parting was mere inches, a slight tingling ghosting over the surfaces that had touched. Time stopped and the world grew quiet; all of creation waiting for an unspoken verdict. Then came a quivering breath from the boy above, and the world was flipped upside down.

Gon had figured it out.

There was a moment of pure dizziness as Killua found himself on his back, but suddenly that didn’t matter. Though his brain hadn’t caught up, Gon’s body had been aware enough to seize control. Now that Killua was under him he took his bottom lip between his, moving fiercely. A need so suppressed that he hadn’t been able to conceive of it washed over him, his whole being growing heated in an instant. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he had kissed every inch of the body under him, his most precious person, a thousand times over.

He had moved from his lips to his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. Gon had only made it to the junction of his neck when he felt something clutch at the front of his shirt. At this, his eyes snapped up, breaking him from the trancelike state he had been in.

Killua’s face was dusted with pink, his eyes half lidded, lips wet and bruised. Gon swallowed hard at the sight, only the fear at what he had done keeping him from going further.  
He must have pulled backward slightly because the hands on his chest were gone and arms were circling around his neck, pulling him downward. He jumped a little as his forehead was pressed against Killua’s, the hold on him tight but the thinner body beginning to relax against him. Gon’s heartbeat was pounding, all nerves alight from the proximity between him and the face he had just been ravishing.

“Thank goodness.” It was no more than a whisper as Killua’s eyes shut, but Gon heard it as if it had been shouted to the stars. “You’re not tired of me.”

The look Gon gave him was awestruck.

“How could I ever be tired of Killua?” His voice sounded deeper than usual and he licked his lips, feeling strange. Killua’s eyes narrowed, but it was with relief and something else that Gon noted he was only pouting.

“How could you be afraid of this?” As the words were said, Gon realized that everything he had feared had melted away completely. The arms around his neck were safety, the body underneath him was comfort, and those lips…

“Because I didn’t think Killua loved me back.” The younger teen’s face went from pink to red in less than a second. _Who says I love you_ , he wanted to challenge, but Gon was smiling, beaming down at him in a way he hadn’t smiled in so long. Killua swallowed heavily, pulling the other back down so he could bury his face in his neck until the blush disappeared.

“Idiot.”

Gon could only laugh, the sound flooding both of their ears like fresh water after a drought, and it had been. After being so starved for each other it was only natural that they curled up in each other’s arms, refusing to let go. Each movement, each gentle caress was a reminder that they were in fact there, and that neither of them was leaving.

It was in the early hours, daybreak just around the corner when Killua finally drifted off to sleep, the comfort of being in Gon’s embrace winning out over the belief that he would be gone when he woke. This time, when the pale haired boy slipped into unconsciousness Gon followed, knowing that when morning came the first sight he would be met with was Killua, open and honest and his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first HxH, my first KiruGon, finished!  
> Thanks to those who have commented; nice thoughts are always appreciated!  
> So, who's next? Leopika? another KiruGon? This fandom has caught me in its snares...


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